


I Fell In Love With Your Ugly Face

by sareyen



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, M/M, Meet-Cute, Smitten Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25242649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sareyen/pseuds/sareyen
Summary: Charles and the mysterious boy on the other side of the platform had a tradition; every morning, at the same time, at the same place, they would pull ugly faces at each other before heading off to school on their separate trains. That was it - they saw each other, pulled an ugly face, smiled and chuckled to themselves, and then went on their way.This tradition was something Charles looked forward to every day for 5 years, but one day, the boy doesn't make a face back.*Inspired by a manga that I can't remember the name of where the characters pass by each other on the way to school and pull faces at each other every day for years, until the boy stops and they fall in love*
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 26
Kudos: 162





	I Fell In Love With Your Ugly Face

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on/inspired by a manga that I read a looong time ago but I can't remember the name of (I've tried finding it, but have been unsuccessful so far). If any one does remember it, please let me know so I can properly credit it - 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy, and thanks for reading! :)

It started when Charles was 11-years-old, the day Charles finally persuaded his mother to let him take the subway instead of the Xavier’s private car, giving him a new sense of independence that he had been sorely lacking in his sheltered life.

Charles had a pep in his step, his heavy backpack strapped across his shoulders, private school uniform crisp and well-ironed, shoes freshly polished and fluffy brown hair neatly combed across his head.

Charles had always looked like a posh schoolboy, so put together and neat. It didn’t help that he had a round-cheeked, angelic face fitted with baby blue eyes.

Not like the boy standing on the other side of the platform.

They were standing directly opposite each other on opposing sides of the platform waiting for their trains to arrive. The other boy looked a little older, but maybe that was because he was much taller than Charles, even back then. Contrasting to Charles, the other boy was all hard lines, with brown hair that sometimes looked copper under the fluorescent lights of the subway and steely grey eyes. He had a scowl on his face as he looked at Charles, their eyes locked.

Charles didn’t know what compelled him to do it – his mother had always instilled in him to always look ‘clean, calm, polite and respectable’. Maybe it was because the other boy, dressed in ripped black jeans and a well-loved band T-shirt looked so comfortable in his dishevelled manner, had inspired Charles, who had never felt that free.

So, Charles pulled a face at the other boy – he scrunched his nose up, twisted his red mouth to the left and made his eyes bug out. Charles knew he looked ridiculous and ugly, but that was the point. The other boy blinked, shoulders twitching in surprise as he just stared at Charles, grey-blue eyes flicking up and down once.

Charles almost felt embarrassed, until the boy on the other side of the platform pulled his own face right back at Charles – his sharp cheeks puffed out, eyes splitting in two different directions, and mouth opening in what looked like a strangled and misshapen ‘o’.

Charles burst out laughing at the boy’s face, the sound carrying across the near-empty station. The other boy smiled in response, showing a startling number of teeth, but his eyes crinkled in the corners.

Before Charles could say anything, the mystery boy’s train pulled up and he gave Charles another small smile before getting on. Charles watched him as the train pulled away, wondering if he would see the boy again.

***

Charles did see the boy again. The day after, in fact.

The boy was standing on the opposite side of the platform at the same time as the day before, wearing ripped jeans in a lighter shade and a different band T-shirt. His hair was a little less messy this morning, and the boy was holding a backpack on one shoulder, colourful pins studded into its front pocket. Charles still wore his preppy school uniform, ironed and pressed, polished and clean.

When the boy saw Charles standing across him again, the corner of his mouth lifted and he nodded a brief hello. When Charles dipped his head in return, smiling himself, he was startled when the boy suddenly pulled a shocking face, one that was much better than the last one. This time, he had included a double chin while his pupils migrated towards the middle of his face, one eyebrow going up as he flared his nostrils.

His handsome face was contorted with forced ugliness, and Charles giggled before wiggling his nose to loosen up his own face. The boy watched, that half-smile now on his face, as Charles pulled his features this way and that, making himself as ugly as he could like the boy on the other side had just seconds ago.

Charles heard a little chuckle, which was drowned out by the noise erupted from the boy’s approaching train. The boy got on the same as the day before, again tilting his head down in a silent ‘bye’, Charles managing a wave as the boy disappeared from the station again.

Charles had a feeling he would see the boy again tomorrow.

***

That night, Charles stood in front of his bathroom mirror atop a plastic stool. He scratched the back of his ankle with his foot, absent-mindedly rubbed his belly over the silk pyjamas he wore while he stared at his face.

The nameless boy had pulled a very good ugly face this morning, and Charles felt like he had to try harder to coax more laughs out of the boy, who naturally seemed a little stoic. Charles remembered the small smile he had on his face and the sound of his short chuckle, something warm fluttering in his belly.

So, that night, Charles spent far too long in the bathroom practising making ugly faces. His mother was concerned, but Charles was 11, almost 12 – she didn’t need to know what he was doing locked up in the bathroom, so she never asked. She was usually too inebriated to remember that he was there, anyway.

Eventually, after brushing his teeth, Charles decided on the face he was going to pull the morning after, and went to bed with a smile on his face and a thrum of giddy excitement under his skin.

***

Charles saw the boy on the other side of the platform every weekday from that point on, and every day they would pull a face at each other. Summer, autumn, winter, spring; they saw each other every day on their way to school, Charles always in his pressed and starched uniform, the nameless boy with the shark-like smile alternating his band T-shirts or graphic hoodies depending on the weather.

One year passed, and then two, and every day they would see each other and pull a face without fail. Funnily enough, they had never spoken to each other in all that time; they would nod in greeting, pull their faces, chuckle and smile to themselves, and then the mystery boy would get on his train and leave, sometimes staring back at Charles as he grew smaller and smaller.

Charles worried that one day the boy would stop coming – maybe he would move to a different school, since he looked older than Charles. Or maybe he would move states and cities, and Charles would never see him again.

Sometimes, when that fear hit him as the boy’s train drew away, Charles would vow to himself that he would ask for the boy’s name the day after.

But he never did.

Maybe it was fear, maybe it was awkwardness, but Charles could never bring himself to speak to the boy. It was like they had this agreement in their odd tradition – they never spoke to each other before, so what if by speaking, Charles would break the fragile thing they had now?

Charles didn’t want to lose this thing that he had with the nameless boy whose face made Charles laugh every day.

So, Charles just kept going – he kept preparing new ugly faces to make every day, and suddenly, four years had passed.

***

It was the end of the spring of Charles’s 16th year. He hadn’t changed a whole lot in the four years since first pulling that face at the boy – his face still held its boyish charm, his nose a little too big for his cherubic face, and he had developed a darker smattering of freckles over his nose bridge. He grew a little taller, but not as tall as the boy on the opposite platform.

While Charles felt like he hadn’t changed much, the other boy had. He had grown taller, his long limbs showing lean but strong muscles under his band T-shirts. Sometimes, he would swap out the T-shirts for sleek black high neck tops that clung to his form, Charles’s eyes widening the first time he saw it. The boy’s face became more angular, his eyes a little harder and his hair cut short and neat. Charles thought that he was handsome, even when he pulled the most ridiculous, unflattering faces he could muster.

Charles clung to his backpack with that familiar hum of anticipation, one that hadn’t waned ever since he was 11-years-old. He had been stressed with assignments and mock exams lately, since he was on track to graduating early; Charles was the top of his class and had no need to worry, but worrying was in his nature, even if he looked like he was put together on the outside. Charles had always thought graduating early was a good thing, but then he would remember the boy on the opposite platform. When Charles finished high school, he wouldn’t take this specific train at this specific time any more.

He would never see the boy on the other platform again.

If the boy was older than him, he would probably be graduating soon as well. But if he was the same age as Charles, and one day he didn’t show up…

Charles didn’t know if the other boy would feel the same way, but if that happened to Charles, he would probably start crying in the middle of the platform.

When Charles padded down the stars, he could see the boy standing in his usual spot, like always. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, and he was glancing around the subway station with antsy eyes, appearing more agitated than usual. He was usually always very calm, almost bordering on cold – at least, until he would pull his face and smile when Charles returned it with his own.

The nameless boy spotted Charles then and immediately nodded, though for some reason he didn’t smile. Charles’s heart fluttered despite itself, and he quickly took his place in front of the boy.

Charles had prepared a very good face today, since he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to do this for. Each face was more precious now that Charles felt like this… relationship was coming to an end.

_Not that anything had really started, anyway._

Charles counted to three in his head, and then pulled the face – double chin, squiggled mouth, upturned nose, wide and lopsided eyes, hollowed cheeks. Charles knew he was positively ugly, and he had expected the boy to laugh and make his own face, like always.

But he didn’t.

Charles immediately dropped his ugly expression, heart thundering in his chest. The boy just looked at him, almost seeming… pained. Charles’s heart dropped in his chest, echoing around the deathly quiet platform.

The other boy just looked at him, not making his face like he usually did. His train soon came, and he got on it, but this time Charles didn’t wave as the carriage pulled away.

Charles felt numb, body frozen.

He was sure the face he was making when the other boy disappeared was uglier than any he had made on purpose.

***

Charles didn’t know what to do – it felt like the other boy had ended their tradition, just like that. Sure, it was a stupid thing that shouldn’t matter this much – he didn’t even know the boy’s name or his school. But, it had felt like Charles’s heart had been broken when the other boy didn’t make a face back at him.

Maybe the other boy was older, like Charles thought. Maybe he grew out of it – it was childish, and stupid, and Charles knew that it was, but it was still something that he looked forward to every day. Even when his mother ignored him, even when he had a hard exam that day or even when Charles was just feeling plain miserable, knowing that he would see the boy and be able to share an ugly face and a laugh made him want to get up in the morning.

But now that the other boy had grown out of it… grown out of _Charles_ …

What was the point?

Charles didn’t go to school that day, calling in sick.

***

Charles skipped class for the rest of the week to ‘recover’ from his cold (lovesickness, he laughed sadly to himself), but knew that he had to go back to school. It was his final year, and he couldn’t afford to miss any more classes or exam prep.

Charles ended up taking the Xavier car the Monday of the week after. Logan, the family driver, just raised a gruff brow when Charles climbed into the backseat looking glum.

“You okay, Chuck?” Logan asked, and Charles offered him a weak smile, nodding. Logan didn’t look convinced, turning on his loud music and driving Charles to school with nothing else said.

Logan ended up taking Charles to school every day after that, all the way until finals.

Charles wondered about the boy often, especially as the car passed the station, and he knew Logan noticed.

“I can drop you off at the station if you want, Chuck,” Logan offered every day, and Charles would always shake his head, give him a sad smile, tearing his eyes forcefully from the station.

“No, thank you, Logan,” Charles would murmur.

“Alright, Chuck. Whatever you want,” was Logan’s programmed reply, before he twisted the volume knob of the Rolls Royce and filled the car with his music.

It was a new morning tradition, one that Charles didn’t really like at all.

***

It was Charles’s graduation day, and he wore his clothes more crisply than usual. His hair was neatly styled, shoes freshly polished, tie held back with a luxurious silver tie bar. He didn’t have his school bag this time, not when he was just going to his graduation.

Logan had called in sick at the last minute, even though Charles knew that the man hadn’t succumbed to a cold at all during his long service under the Xaviers, and the man had been working as their driver before Charles had even been born.

Since there wasn’t time to organise another driver last minute, and Sharon was in no way sober enough to drive one of the family’s luxury cars to the graduation ceremony herself, Charles had to either take the subway or not go at all.

So, that was how Charles found himself walking down the steps of the familiar subway station that he hadn’t been to in almost a month.

Each of his steps echoed down the stairs, and since the graduation wasn’t held at peak hour, it was mainly deserted.

Like usual, Charles’s eyes naturally drifted to the opposite platform, where he knew the boy wouldn’t be standing – it wasn’t their normal time, and the boy had probably left any way. Charles felt tears springing into his eyes when he saw that the opposite platform was completely empty, but he held himself together. It somehow hurt more to miss someone he didn’t even know the name of.

Charles turned his eyes away from the empty platform on the opposite side, dropping them to his feet as he trudged glumly across the black-scuffed tiles of his side of the platform.

Then, there was the sudden echo of frantic steps, the staccato noise bouncing off the walls in the empty station.

The footsteps were getting louder, moving closer and closer, and Charles finally lifted his eyes.

“What-” Charles gasped out as he saw the source of the noise.

It was the mystery boy, wearing a plain white T-shirt, ripped black jeans and combat boots. His hair was messy and he wasn’t holding his usual school bag either, but he was making a face of shock, relief and…

Hope?

The nameless boy ran across Charles’s side of the platform until he was standing right in front of him – up close, the boy was taller than Charles thought, and smelled like soap and fabric softener, and a little bit like coffee.

“You…” the boy breathed out, brows bunching together as his words failed him, grey-blue eyes staring at Charles with a strength and intensity that made his knees buckle. The mystery boy’s voice wasn’t exactly what Charles had expected, a little low and rough, but exceedingly gentle as he spoke to Charles.

The boy usually on the other side of the platform was now standing so close that Charles had to crane his neck up to meet his eyes. Charles nibbled on his lower lip like he always did when he was nervous, the other boy’s gaze dropping there for a moment, before looking back into Charles’s bright blue eyes.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” the other boy finally said, Charles letting out a short, strangled noise from the back of his throat as the taller boy gently grabbed Charles’s wrist, like he thought he was going to disappear right in front of his eyes. “I don’t even know your name, but I hoped…”

“What are you doing here?” Charles whispered, voice cracking a little. The other boy blinked, like he had the first time Charles pulled a face at him.

“I… I recognised your uniform and saw that… your graduation ceremony was today. I didn’t know if you were a senior or not, but I… I had to try. The chance was small, but I had to try, so I’ve been waiting here for you,” the boy said, words coming out in a rush. The boy sucked in a deep breath, like he wasn’t used to talking so much so quickly, before looking Charles dead in the eye again. “I was about to leave, since the ceremony starts soon… but then you came.”

“I…” Charles started, shocked speechless by the other boy’s words.

_He waited? For me?_

Charles’s eyes teared up, and the other boy looked startled, mouth opening and closing like he didn’t know what to say. The hand around Charles’s wrist felt hot, the heat travelling all the way down Charles’s arm and into his heart.

“Why did you stop?” Charles whispered, voice trembling slightly. The boy now pinched his eyebrows together again in confusion.

“Stop…?”

“The faces,” Charles explained, dropping his eyes down, embarrassed. “That day… you didn’t make a face like normal. I thought…”

The other boy groaned, making Charles look back up at him. Charles was surprised to see that the other boy’s cheeks were a little flushed, and realised that _he_ was embarrassed.

“I… Gott. Okay,” the other boy said, hand squeezing around Charles’s wrist. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time now. Maybe… Maybe ever since you made that face at me, all those years ago.”

Charles’s mouth dropped open, the other boy continuing, tip of his ears now turning a little pink.

“You’re so beautiful, even when you make those faces. And your smile. I just… I didn’t want you to only see me as… that ugly guy who made ugly faces. I didn’t want to look ugly in front of you anymore,” the boy admitted, cheeks now bright red and his mouth pulled down in a slight scowl, which seemed like his default expression.

“You like me?” Charles squeaked out, eyes wide. The other boy’s eyebrows pinched together again, but he nodded stiffly.

“I do,” the boy said again, sliding his hand from Charles’s wrist to take Charles’s hand instead, twining their fingers together. Charles’s breath caught in his throat and his heart stuttered.

“I believe I like you too. I… I really like you too. For a long time,” Charles breathed out, the other boy’s eyes now widening, before his mouth slowly pulled out of its scowl and into a wide, gloriously breathtaking smile that showed all of his white teeth.

The other boy was about to say something, but was cut off when the approaching train blared its horn to signal its presence, both of the boys jumping. The train slowed, its doors opening, and the boys looked at each other, sharing a smile.

Charles let the other boy tug his hand, the two of them getting on the same train for the first time.

The carriage was empty apart from Charles and the nameless boy, and the two of them sat side by side, hands still linked.

“Where are you heading?” the boy asked, Charles letting out a soft laugh, leaning into the boy’s side a little as the train swayed.

“Graduation ceremony. I’m a senior,” Charles said, the other boy letting out a laugh under his breath alongside a muttered ‘ _Gott sei dank’_. “And you, my friend? Where are you heading? This isn’t your usual train.”

The other boy smiled, looking into Charles’s eyes, the two of them leaning in with a pull of gravity.

“Wherever you’re going,” the boy replied, Charles laughing. “My own graduation ceremony was yesterday. I’m also a senior. Or, well, I _was_ a senior, 24 hours ago.”

Charles smiled, staring into the boy’s eyes – the boy, whose name was still a mystery.

“I’m Charles,” Charles said, their noses bumping together. The other boy let out a breathy chuckle.

“Erik. I’m Erik,” the boy that was usually on the other side of the platform murmured, just before they both leaned forward to close the last thread of space between them.

Their kiss was short and sweet, and when they pulled back, they were both smiling.

_And at that moment, they were making the best faces they had ever made before._


End file.
